


A Gamble in Time

by Aibhilin



Series: And then the world burned and a phoenix rose from the ashes [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: A kind-of Reincarnation Story, Ah better be on the safe side, Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Canonical Character Death, Devil Fruit shenanigans, Different Devil Fruit, Gen, He ought to have his own tag, I took canon and had a go at it with a screwdriver, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Is it time travel tho?, It's convoluted, Light Angst, Marineford Arc, Mention of Marshall D Teach, Mentioned Gol D. Roger, Not Beta Read, Other, PTSD Portgas D Ace, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Time Travel, angst and humour?, child!Ace, child!Sabo, child!luffy, everything will hopefully be clear by the end of it, first few parts to follow at a later date, for real now, my attempt at comedy for the following tag (among other things), part four of the series actually, twisty storyline please bear with me, will add more tags later should the need arise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21987040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aibhilin/pseuds/Aibhilin
Summary: What if there was something about Roger the marines didn't know? What if Gol D. Roger had a Devil Fruit? What if Edward Newgate's First Commander didn't get the Phoenix Fruit all those years ago?But still, it exists. And a legend has to have come from somewhere.The Pirate King's Son was killed at Marineford.The Phoenix was purged from the body.And a Devil Fruit began to burn.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco & Izou, Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco & Portgas D. Ace, Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco & Shirohige | Whitebeard | Edward Newgate, Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco & Thatch, Gol D. Roger & Portgas D. Ace, Izou & Thatch (One Piece), Monkey D. Garp & Monkey D. Luffy, Monkey D. Garp & Portgas D. Ace, Monkey D. Garp & Sabo, Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace & Sabo, Monkey D. Luffy & Sabo, Portgas D. Ace & Sabo, Portgas D. Ace & Whitebeard Pirates
Series: And then the world burned and a phoenix rose from the ashes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582777
Comments: 13
Kudos: 68





	1. Hoisting the Anchor

**Author's Note:**

> Marco is a mouthy character, at least in his own head. That’s all I’ll say to justify the rating. Hope you’ll like it!

_"It's not that I'm afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it happens."_

_~Woody Allen_

* * *

His story began in Foosha.

Actually, no, that wasn’t true. His story began far, far farther back than his childhood, far, far farther away than the South Blue where he’d been born.

It didn’t begin with Roger, although that’s most of what he could remember. And it didn’t begin with the one that came before that, either, even though glimpses and shadows of people from that period ran past his memories, as well.

No. That wasn’t where it started.

Way back, on an island that has become a myth these days, there once lived a man. Way back, that man found and ate a Devil Fruit; and became a phoenix. And when he died, his body burned and another, tinier one rose from its ashes. And he grew older. And came to _remember the first_.

Soon enough, that other man died and something funny happened. His body burned, too. From those ashes, yet another successor was born. But he didn’t remember the first, no. This one only had vague recollection that someone had come before his predecessor, although he did manage to remember some of what that second one had been up to. And on and on it went, this seemingly never-ending chain of people dying and burning and being reborn.

Then came the person before Roger. Thereafter it was the Pirate King’s turn. That’s when things started to turn out differently.

You see, Roger had been far from stupid. He – like all of those that came before, though he hadn’t known that little tidbit of information – felt that this chain of rebirths, that wasn’t anything natural, at all. That was the Devil Fruit’s doing. He hadn’t been the one to eat it, however. He hadn’t had a choice in whether or not he’d wanted the power it had granted him, oh no. And that hadn’t sat well with the Pirate King. Thus, he’d decided to do something about it. Naturally, he decided he wouldn’t tell his successor straight out what ( _after all,_ _where was the fun in that?_ ).

( _It was always easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission_ )

( _even more so for a pirate than anyone else_ )

* * *

So, _his_ story actually began when he died.

Oh, no, he didn’t have “no regrets” when he died. A pirate like him? Pfft, he wasn’t a saint. Well, at least he went out with a bang. A heroic death, protecting his brother, that was what the stuff of legends was made of.

The hand through his torso? Ace could have done without that, thank you very much. It _hurt_. Heavens, did it ever! That had to have been the worst way to go, on that stupid battlefield where his family waged war against one another – _and had Luffy really punched Garp back then? He’d not imagined that, had he?_ – for him. It had been a trap. Whitebeard had known. His brothers and their allies had known. They’d still come. Through the water and the air, because that made for epic entrances to a historic showdown between pirates and marines.

That both sides lost.

He’d died, hadn’t he?

But not via execution, as planned. He’d died in battle, with a smile.

He’d gone out like a candle, flickering and flickering, until…

_“Thank you for loving me.”_

… darkness had consumed him.

* * *

A fire broke out on the staircase that led from the commander’s hallway to the deck. That wouldn’t have been as shocking or disturbing as it was to the observers, had the fire not originated from a Devil Fruit. Said Devil Fruit had been innocently resting in the right hand of the first mate who had been in the middle of talking to his crewmates and promptly burst into flames _in his bare hand_ when he’d halted and tried to turn around to address his crewmate directly. Reflexively, he’d turned his hand black with armament haki, and not a moment too soon. As it was, he only felt the beginnings of a burn travelling up his right arm before he felt what appeared to be the Devil Fruit literally _dissolving_ and lost his grip.

The Devil Fruit fell to the floor with a “ _splarge_ ” that was nowhere near anticipated that day. Fortunately for them, it appeared to not burn through the floor as fast as it probably could have. Nevertheless, from one moment to the next it had created a solid wall of fire that towered just on the first few steps of the staircase, right in between Marco, and Thatch and Izo.

Eyes wide open and focused on the spectacle, Marco, who was now the only one standing in the middle part of the staircase shouted towards Izo, who was a bit further down, in the hallway right behind Thatch, “Bring a bucketful of water! Now, yoi!”

“ _Make it_ _SEVERAL_!” Thatch cried, hands holding his pompadour in panicked agitation on the other side of the fire with his eyes fixed on the still burning pile of Devil Fruit.

The still burning pile of Devil Fruit and fire that was cackling suspiciously and… starting to form a shape.

Wait, what?

Was that a trick of the light?

The flames seemed more concentrated in some areas than others. The lower part of the staircase was well and truly on fire by then and Marco and Thatch had both backed up on their respective ends of it. They couldn’t hope to stop it from burning without any water available, but they could prevent any of their crewmates from coming any closer from both sides. Marco didn’t want to fan the flames with fresh air, but he’d slip out through the door as soon as he figured out what was going on and what that… _thing_ … was. That blackish-reddish blot was bigger than a Devil Fruit. He should know, he’d held one in his hands until it had melted.

That was when Thatch started shouting towards others. Izo and a few others had arrived on the other end and brought water with them. Not enough, but at least it helped a little bit in the first few instances that they poured it on their end of the fire. They were quickly forming a line in order to pass water as fast as possible, as was the expected response to a fire on a ship as big as theirs. Any fire could have devastating consequences if unattended, after all, no matter its size.

Of course, that was the moment when the fire roared up for the tips of the highest flames to be at Marco’s height and he almost involuntarily took a step back, to retreat, to flee through the door and-

What utterly arrested him in his tracks was what appeared to be a _head made of flames_ hovering right there in front of him in the fire. His eyes were blown wide and his mouth fell open in shock. The face was wearing a smile and its eyes were closed, he could tell that much. Were those freckles on that face? And then the face and what must have been its body suddenly tipped over and fell forward, right towards him, it was gonna burn him and it _fell_ _straight_ _through him,_ _holy shit_ -

before stopping, recoiling, and going back a bit and next he knew the fire grew smaller and solid and his eyes refocused on the addition of a wild collection of limbs and cloth and a body and a dark-haired head in his arms and _what the hell was even going on_ -

His blood was pulsing loudly through his head.

He’d thought he’d be burnt. He’d thought it would hurt. Instead, all he felt and saw was the tiny body in his arms.

He paused in his thoughts.

Was that a kid?

As he registered that there was much less fire and smoke and heat in his surroundings, he slowly raised his gaze towards his brothers. They stood there gaping, shocked and shook just as much as he was. The fire had gone out completely. What rested in the centre of where it had started were two Devil Fruits, lying side by side on the surprisingly stable looking, albeit charred black patch of floor.

He blinked in mild surprise, his eyes returning to their habitual, half-slanted state. _Two?_ Considering the body in his arms, that wasn’t half as bizarre, in his eyes.

Body.

Right.

Marco slightly rearranged it in his arms ( _oh, he was kneeling now, when had he done that?_ ), resting the limp head in his left hand, while propping its upper body up on his raised leg behind it, leaving the legs lying straight on the floor and the boy sitting against him. He’d been right, it was a little boy that had just burst out of the fire. That… had been a fantastical occurrence, even for the Grand Line. Slowly, meticulously, he checked the child over. It certainly didn’t _seem_ as if there was anything badly wrong with him.

His eyes narrowed. There weren’t any burns on the body, at least not any obvious ones. Critically, he scrutinized the clothes and bare arms and legs. Apart from superficial scratches ( _and was that an arm brace? Yes. Yes, it was._ ), the boy appeared healthy as could be.

Marco, having finished what little health check he could on the boy, settled in to wait for the nurses that were sure to put in their appearances sometime soon – and yup, there they were, expertly pushing Thatch aside to storm up to where he rested, almost on top of the staircase. Practically a blink of an eye thereafter, they were heading towards the infirmary, the boy, still very much out of it, on a stretcher somewhere in-between them.

The following moments were filled with questions that were irritating as they were necessary and answers that he simply couldn’t give – “No, that boy’s not a stowaway, I think. No, I don’t know how old he is or where he came from. No, he’s not injured, as far as I could discern.” The realization that he’d have to have that same spiel with his Oyaji exhausted him more than he was prepared for, frankly. Resigning himself to being checked out before he did that or risk the wrath of the nurses, he started the trek to the infirmary, Thatch and Izo just a step behind him.

Running through the event in his mind, he couldn’t help but think that they’d been utterly unprepared for that to happen. The worst thing was that it hadn’t even been their fault. All they’d done was react. That was worse than Grand Line weird, that was straight up out of this world. Was that really all that Devil Fruit’s doing? It mystified him.

About twenty meters too late, he realized he could have – should have – taken the fruit with him. ( _He was supposed to be the responsible one, dammit!_ ) Turning around, the two fruits were forcefully shoved into his sight from the left where the pompadour had stopped. Taking a step back to regain his equilibrium, Marco regarded first the fruits ( _that one was the Mera Mera no Mi, bloody hell, he’d recognize that blasted Flame Flame Fruit anywhere by now what with how often he’d compared the fruit he’d found with it, but what in the four Blues was going on?_ ), then his brother evenly.

It was Thatch who found his voice first. With a forced smirk and feigned nonchalance, he confidently stated “What would you do without us, huh? Now you’ve finally got your wish – ta-dah! One Fire Fire Fruit and one Mystery Fruit, on the house!” That made Izo snort and shake his head. The crossdresser then proceeded to pretend to ignore him as he continued gracefully on towards their destination, head held high and telling the air, “The others are cleaning up as we speak. The hallway and the staircase should be fresh and new by tomorrow. Let’s get you two checked out. Come on, hop to it, you two!”

Shoulders sagging in relief at the unasked-for update, Marco gave a tight, albeit real smile to the chef before following their brother. What would he do without them, indeed.

* * *

Back on a peaceful little island in the East Blue, in a hut that formed the home base of a certain group of mountain bandits, the quiet was disturbed by a few birds outside, chirping the day away. That… wasn’t supposed to happen. The silence wasn’t supposed to be disturbed by the wildlife outside the cabin. The wildlife outside wasn’t even supposed to have been heard what with the wildlife within the cabin – namely, one freakishly strong little nuisance – that was supposed to disturb the peace.

In fact, peace was about the last thing that ought to reign supreme in this particular hut. Peace was also at that particular moment in time about the farthest thing from the minds of the people living in said cabin.

“If Garp finds out, we’re dead.” The mountain of a woman that was standing in the middle of what had been supposed to have been the brat’s bedroom that night murmured. With how quiet it was, her voice could still be heard perfectly by all that were in the house.

The bandits sweat dropped.

Spinning around as fast as lighting, she shouted at the first of her underlings that she could spot “Are you darn sure the devil brat wasn’t in the jungle, Grey Terminal or Goa Kingdom?” She had a wild look about her as she continued, “Oooh, I’ll have you turn over every single stone on the island! If we don’t, Garp will make seaking fodder out of the lot of us! _We have to find the brat!_ ”

None of the bandits was moving, shook as they were.

“Get to it! _NOW!_ ”

That, at last, broke them out of their stupor. They fell over themselves in hurrying to fulfil her command. Well, she wasn’t the bandit leader for naught. Soon, it was only her and the dog that were left in the cabin. Narrowing her eyes at the stupid mutt, she didn’t need to say anything to make the ferocious beast cower and quickly and quietly, with its tail between its legs, slink out the door that had been left open a crack by the others.

She huffed a half-snort half-sigh. That beast had had the best chance out of all of them to find the boy and yet it hadn’t been able to catch so much as a whiff of the brat so far. Turning back around leisurely towards the lone blanket that lay on the floor, she felt a vein on her forehead stand out prominently in frustrated worry.

The room looked like it had the day before and the day before that, too, meaning the brat hadn’t been there for two nights by now. Probably for longer than that. They’d lost track of his movements sometime in the afternoon one and a half weeks ago and hadn’t gotten so much as a hint to where the devil brat had gone.

Now, don’t confuse Dadan, the leader of the mountain bandits on Dawn Island with a caring mother. She was about anything _but_ that. Yet, in the face of an enraged Vice Admiral out for blood after hearing about his missing grandson… she’d admit, if only in her head, mind you, that she was worried. Worried for the brat, at least a little bit, although she suspected the greater worry was directed at her own, prolonged, existence and her certain demise should an overprotective self-appointed grandfather of the Pirate King’s bloody _son_ appear on her doorstep any time in the near future.

She hoped he decided to take a pass on vacation time on Dawn in the upcoming week, if not this whole month. The unmistakeable clinking of paws hitting wood behind her told her that the useless mutt had returned, sans Ace. She decided to ask for the next two months without Garp, for good measure.

Then, Mogra rushed into the hut, crying “Kashira! There’s a ship approaching, a marine ship coming towards Dawn – it’s a Vice Admiral’s ship!” ooooh, and her calm was gone.

A Vice Admiral headed for Dawn Island. It was too much to hope that another Vice Admiral might’ve taken all of a sudden interest in vacationing on an idyllic East Blue island that was rather out of the way of any major trade routes, she knew. And she’d never been the most optimistic, anyways.

That only left one person.

Dadan sweat dropped.

* * *

So, his story had already begun by then.

He’d lived a, well, a half-life, maybe? The phoenix bit had been… both a curse and a blessing in disguise, in retrospect. But he’d always had that niggling feeling of wrongness at the back of his mind, that certainty that, despite everything he’d lived through, despite everything he’d survived and despite everything he’d done, he’d still... Not really lived, not in the same way other people were alive and living and breathing with that spark in their eyes that spoke of burdens different than his. His had been an unnatural taint that had smeared everything he’d been alive for with an undeniable certainty that there was something _wrong_ with all of it.

In the end, he’d died in battle, with a smile on his face. Not only because he’d been loved in that life, but that had been a big part of it. And he’d get to meet one of his brothers who’d been waiting for him for quite a while now in death, wouldn’t he? It was easy to smile in the face of that.

The other reason why he’d smiled had been… he’d had an inkling by then, no more than a flittering of a thought through his head, an idea in his mind, that Roger’s doings hadn’t ended then. He’d felt it, too, in all his bones and being, that that hadn’t been everything that life had promised to throw at him. And so, when he left this world, he’d left that feeling of wrongness behind and he’d left it with something, almost like… the beginnings of a hope that something was still to be ahead for him.

Needless to say, he hadn’t been entirely wrong to hope for both.

( _For two brothers to be joined in death)_

One Devil Fruit split and became two once more in a silent promise to fulfil a wish that hadn’t even been spoken out loud.

( _For three brothers to be reunited at last_ )

And one more choice was left for the taking at last, a choice that took a few centuries to be available again.

( _And for three little boys to be alive, together._ )

* * *

_“What if Roger had a child?”_

_“If Roger had a child? It’d be real bad if he had one!”_

_“He’d be a demon who wouldn’t deserve to be born, or to live!”_

Laughter. Ace drifted, in-between being asleep and awake, wisps of arrogant, degrading laughter that he remembered from before playing through his mind. A burning feather leisurely floated through his memory.

Frowning, he fought against the fog that was keeping him in the dark. His breathing picked up. With his ears, he could make out faraway voices, an unfamiliar beeping breaking up the comfortable atmosphere in – was that a room? There were no animal sounds to be made out. It took some strength, but slowly he managed to crack open one eye a bit.

* * *

They hadn’t noticed him yet. That was good. His eyes were blown wide as he stared at his surroundings carefully. Stuffed into a back corner of a back room deep in the bowels of the huge Marine vessel that had anchored at Goa Kingdom, his heart didn’t stop racing. That was the correct ship, alright – above, he could faintly make out the voice of that Vice Admiral that had combed the forest with a fine needle in the search for Ace all of this past week. ( _As if that hadn’t scared him enough – he could have been found any moment and_ returned _back to that place_ )

His breath went in and out fast, still, but slower than it had done earlier, when he’d snuck on board and done his very best to stay the hell hidden like his life depended on it. ( _he expertly ignored the voice that said it very well may have_ )

Whatever had possessed him and declared this a good, sensible idea had utterly deserted him by now. ( _he had a feeling that may have been Ace whispering yet another one of his crackshot plans into his ears_ )

( _Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part_ )

( _ ~~He missed his partner-in-crime~~_ )

* * *

The thing was, when Ace had started simply not appearing at their usual meeting spots, he hadn’t thought much of it. He knew the dark-haired boy could fend for himself and thought he must’ve gotten delayed somehow. ( _He’d known to ignore the niggling itch voicing worries at the back of his head – they’d made a pact, hadn’t they? He steadfastly told himself that the black haired boy was trustworthy and would appear, sooner or later_ )

When that trend had kept going, with no sign of a change in sight, he’d had the suspicion that the other boy might’ve gone back on his word and _touched his share of the treasure already and **boarded a ship without him and-**_

But the treasure was still there. Innocently, it had sat untouched in the hiding place that they’d agreed on. Thrown for a loop, once another week of Ace not showing his face had gone by, he’d decided to move it to a safer spot, farther away from Grey Terminal. He knew Ace knew that hiding place, as well, so it wasn’t like he was doing anything untoward – but to stifle that niggling itch and the feeling that something was wrong somehow, he had to do _something_ , at least.

And he’d not done that a moment too soon, either, for only another day went by when all of a sudden a high-ranking marine came thundering into the forest, looking for a boy whose description fit Ace to a T. He’d been taken aback by the brash demand if he’d seen the other boy after the man had cornered him and thoroughly beaten him in the ( _admittedly embarrassingly short_ ) fight that he’d tried to put up. He hadn’t told. There was nothing _to_ tell, truth be told.

Ace up and vanishing hadn’t been accounted for in their schemes and he didn’t know where the other boy even could be, apart from their hiding spots or the island, in general. But he wasn’t. And Sabo was uncomfortably sure of that, having checked everywhere he could reach and listen to the Vice Admiral ( _that was a marine Vice Admiral, a Vice Admiral looking for Ace, what on earth did Ace **do**?!?_) reach everywhere he couldn’t in his own search for Ace.

Yet, the Vice Admiral didn’t give up. Hearing the man go on about finding Ace – “whether he wants to be found or not!” –, one would think that there was something personal involved, but Sabo couldn’t think of anything that would make this kind of behaviour make sense to him. He’d never seen that Vice Admiral before, nor had Ace ever alluded to knowing a Vice Admiral – not that he’d asked. After all, he’d had secrets that he’d wanted to stay hidden, too.

( _Ace had those, most definitely. Why else would he have accepted Sabo that easily when he’d proven himself worthy of fighting alongside with?_ )

So, when the idea struck, Sabo simply went with it. There was nothing else to do, after all, was there? Their treasure was safe and would stay safe until their return. And that niggling itch in his mind was abating slightly with every moment that he spent executing that lunatic plan of his. The only thing to hope for, now, was that no one would find him.

* * *

When his grandfather had come and taken him away from Makino and Woop Slap and the village in that misguided attempt at making Luffy “see reason” ( _whatever that was. It wasn’t anything like meat, so Luffy had stopped paying attention after Garp had answered this very pressing question of his_ ), he’d understood that it had something to do with how Shanks had been to the village and had been “crumpting” him. Or something the like.

Now, the young boy was on a big, white ship that wasn’t like Shanks’ at all, with marines on board and lots of polished wooden planks and it felt like a giant place that he wouldn’t want to be at, if it had been his choice in the first place. Which it hadn’t been.

At least he still had his hat and the promise to Shanks. And the marines were s’pposed to leave him alone and “let him roam the ship freely” – according to Garp. Meaning, everyone was busy and he had no one to play with.

Pouting, he made his way into the bowels of the ship. Soon, he was playing an explorer on a mission. A pirate explored many places in his lifetime, didn’t he? So Luffy played a pirate on a mission to explore the ship. Who knew? Maybe there were monsters hiding in the engine room? Eyes wide, he backtracked mentally and stopped where he was at the bottom of a staircase. Nah, monsters wouldn’t be inside a marine ship, right? Lights sparingly lit up the hallway that he found himself at the beginning of.

Resolving to be quiet, the little boy ventured on bravely, putting one step in front of the other. There were doors to the left and the right of the hallway. He tried opening them, but none budged at all. Did the marines lock them? Another pout found its way onto his face.

That wasn’t fun at all.

A sneeze shook him out of his musings. That hadn’t been him. His eyes wide as saucers, Luffy held his hat with both hands – for lack of a weapon he could use and for comfort – and made his way silently as he could ( _which was to say it wasn’t silent at all, with the pat-pat of his sandals on the iron grid that the marines used as flooring throughout the ship_ ) towards the origin of the noise.

It had come from one of the doors further down, hadn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kashira=Boss (I hope I got that right)


	2. Leinen Los

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabo, meet Luffy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, finally done! I couldn't decide when to cut this, so there you have it :D  
> Also, this chapter has entertained me so much... it's hilarious, I tell ya! Hope you enjoy it as much as I did!  
> Have fun reading! Cheers!

_"What does it mean if a black squirrel crosses your path? Will I have adorably bad luck?”_

_~@Suddain on Twitter_

* * *

The back of the deepest bowels of that Vice Admiral's ship were rather claustrophobia-inducing, Sabo decided. Yup, it was the walls closing in on him that made his heart race even more than it had before, not at all the pat-pat of something ( _some_ thing _? Some_ one _?_ ) coming steadily closer to his hiding spot.

Sabo had sneezed – and then proceeded to get going what felt like a minor heart in the makings when that weird noise had first registered to his ears. On a normal day, his hearing wasn’t bad. Oh, it was very trustworthy, indeed, usually. This, however, was by far the opposite of what constituted an “ordinary day" for him.

( _Well, he was used to the sight of the guns, at least – Grey Terminal had plenty of people trying their luck with one and even more who failed at that_ )

( _He could have done without all the freaking_ white _surrounding him on that blasted ship that he just_ had _to play stowaway on_ )

( _All he’d wanted was his partner back and what did he get? A heart attack every other minute, that’s what_ )

Freaking out by himself in that small crevice between the two crates wasn’t good but he really was out of ideas and oh, the steps were coming right around the corner, maybe whoever that was didn’t see him sitting with his arms around his knees down on the floor?

Pat-pat, the noise went, pat-pat. Pat-pat, pat-pat, _pat-pat_ , _pat-pat_ , **_pat-pat_** , **_pat-pat_** , **_PAT_**.

A moment of silence, then “Who’re you?” a voice much, much younger than Sabo had prepared himself for asked in a perplexed tone. It carried far, having been spoken out loud in the storage room, and echoed ominously in the silence in-between the crates, despite the speaker being of a similar age to the ex-noble and projecting more of an air of confusion than anything else.

Well. Sabo was confused, now, too.

Brows furrowing together, the blond regarded the boy bemusedly for a long moment. And it was a boy that was standing in front of him. The straw hat on his head and his whole attire contrasted starkly with the pristine white and immaculate uniforms that had donned the marines that Sabo had seen scurrying around on deck in glances when he’d scuttled aboard. What was a boy around his age doing on a marine ship?

... was he dead? Had he been found out and shot already? Was this the grim reaper who’d come for him? Was he dreaming? What marine Vice Admiral went around bothering kids?

On second thought, most probably a deranged one. He’d been after Ace, as well, after all. Worse and worse scenarios entering his head the longer the silence continued ( _the straw-hatted boy had meanwhile started picking his nose in apparent boredom_ ), he began thinking furiously about how he could get the two of them out of what was obviously a kidnapping situation, and a potentially lethal one at that if they were to be found out ( _the guns here were decidedly_ not _for show_ ).

Even if the old marine was his only current lead on the whereabouts of Ace, he’d rather risk it and move the two of them out of what seemed to become a more and more dangerous situation by the minute.

Alone, he might have had a chance to stay under the radar while the ship made its way through the East Blue. Adding another kid to the mix? Sabo was feeling increasingly overwhelmed but still fairly confident in his abilities and, to be fair, a bit of hysterical optimism might have played a role there.

* * *

The meeting was going well, all considered. They’d had to deal with a Devil Fruit unexpectedly reproducing, a boy that had appeared out of thin air and a fire that came into being with no visible catalyst setting it off, after all.

Marco steepled his fingers, to rest in front of his face as he thought back to how that boy, that _child_ had simply materialised out of thin air in front of him. No, scratch that, he’d come straight out of a _fire_ that had started in front of him, like what some may have called a demon or somesuch nonsense.

Marco was above that.

Thatch wasn’t.

For the cook, the whole encounter reeked of something supernatural having happened, and he wasn’t shy to tell other people all about the strange event from his perspective. Marco felt his eyebrow twitch in annoyance at the nth retelling of how the pompadoured man had to _jump out of the way not to get set on fire and had the others seen the flames? It looked like a scene out of a book on_ Devil _Fruits, he’d swear!_ With every retelling, the story got more and more elaborate details added to it, quite a few of which Marco was sure came straight out of the cook's imagination instead of reality.

Well, it was only natural that every single one of the commanders felt a tad... off. Out of control. They hadn’t had such a situation in _years_. Wait, no. Make that _ever_. No known memory came close to this level of absurd nonsense.

“Marco, what would you say to that?” Oh. He’d been lost in his thoughts and only been listening with one ear to the conversation, so he quickly focused on what had been said before formulating a suitable reply. “We were talking about what to do with the Devil Fruits?” He got a nod as affirmation. “I still haven’t decided if I want to eat the one I’ve found in that last mission I’ve been on...”

“Weeeeell, seeing as no-one can tell which of the two was your fruit, that’ll make things a bit more difficult, I think.”

A sigh, then “Thank you for your input, Thatch.” Opening the eyes that he’d closed in exasperation at the chef stating the obvious, Marco went on to say “Is the fruit still mine to claim, Oyaji?” _Am I to babysit a fruit on top of these idiots, now?_ were the words that he didn’t want to say out loud but which were heard, nonetheless, if he judged the slight uptilt to the white moustache correctly.

“In light of recent events, it’d probably be sensible to remain cautious. I’ll leave the fruits in your care, Marco, but I suggest you refrain from eating either.” The humour that infused his words did a lot in defusing the slightly on-edge atmosphere in the room.

“You don’t think they’ll set themselves on fire again, Oyaji?” Kingdew asked, half-jokingly.

“I think that if they do, Marco is more than capable of dealing with it.”

He’ll make sure to keep a wet towel at hand, along with a few blankets, and put the fruits into a nonflammable container. Things had been much easier the day before, when all he’d had to wonder about was what Devil Fruit had landed in his lap and why on earth did it not resemble any that he’d been able to find in all the books on board the Moby Dick?

“The fire has been dealt with?”

Newgate's question was answered by Izo who recounted the occurrence fact-by-fact, unlike _other people_ in the room. Meanwhile, Marco thought back to the fire. That had been a head he’d seen, before the boy had.... manifested, for lack of a better word, in front of him, right? That face... weird. Being on the Grand Line prepared you for a lot of things, admittedly, but a sudden fire that... split a Devil Fruit into two ( _and where else would that other fruit have come from but from the Devil Fruit he’d been holding?_ ) along with a boy materialising in front of your eyes wasn’t on the list of things that could even marginally be expected on this most magical of all seas.

Into the lull of conversation that followed Izo's retelling, Marco asked “Oyaji, that boy. What’ll we do about him?”

Whitebeard hummed in consideration before answering, “For the time being, we’ll wait until he’s woken up. Then we can ask him about his name and island of origin and go from there.”

It was good, Marco supposed, that they’d gotten the “all clear” from the nurses already. Apparently, all the boy had to complain about were some scratches, possibly stemming from him having grazed some plants or twigs. He hadn’t suffered burns or anything the like. Where the plants or twigs had come from to wound him was anyone’s guess.

“Oyaji, I’ll need a bigger budget allotted to deal with the repairs on that staircase and the hallway.” Curiel decided to mention now that the coast was mostly clear for more mundane demands and complaints to be made.

Marco let the rest of the discussions over more trivial matters that started up in response to Curiel's demand wash over him, his mind a world away, trying to decipher why, exactly, that face in the fire had somehow seemed familiar to him.

* * *

Sabo took back everything he’d thought about adding another kid to his plans. Never mind that they were almost the same age, that didn’t matter at all.

( _Standing up from his cramped position after introducing himself had told him that he was even a noticeable bit taller than the other boy_ )

( _Oh, and he was way more logical than the black-haired younger kid, as well, did he mention that?_ )

( _The straw hatted dunce had wandered off because he’d been_ bored _on a ship filled with an uncertain number of_ armed marines _who’d freaking_ kidnapped _him for heaven’s sake_ )

Dealing with the Luffy was nowhere nearly as difficult as he’d imagined, oh no.

It was worse.

Way. Worse.

Not only had the smaller boy a preference for wandering off when one’s eyes migrated off of him for even a second, no, he had a penchant for finding the most troublesome situations to get out of, as well.

 _You_ try explaining away the bite-sized marks of kid teeth in chunks of meat and fruits when Sabo had finally found him again for the first time after Luffy had decided to “follow his nose" – and literally, at that! It was all he could do to hide the evidence by pushing it underneath some shelves and into the one bin he’d found. Was there another one that wasn’t filled to the brim with trash? Probably. Was Sabo in the mood to go looking for it? Not a chance.

The boy was a menace, he thought to himself while dragging the younger one along by the wrist. Oh, he had no idea where best to hide themselves now that there were two kids' bodies to hide, but the first way to stop attracting unwanted attention was to leave the most populated areas. Out of sight could mean outside of the list of suspects that Sabo knew would be drawn up once the mysteriously shrunken amount of food was discovered.

Quickly, as silently as possible with that constant, accursed, stupid _pat-pat_ in the background, they went from one room to the next, opening and closing doors to rooms that seemed rather more in use than Sabo was comfortable with. Only once they’d reached a suitably dark and dusty room did Sabo let go of Luffy and close the door, hoping fervently that no one had paid attention or was listening for an annoying little _pat-pat_ sound in the suspiciously empty hallways of the giant ship.

Sabo resolved to get the two of them off the vessel at the next island. But first, he had a companion to persuade to cooperate and explain his plan to.

“Let’s leave the ship.” ... why reach both of these objectives in separate talks when it could be done within the confines of one sentence? Sabo had always known that his mouth at times could run ahead of his thoughts, employing no filter for what came out of it, but he hoped and guessed that this time the consequences for that were mild, comparatively speaking. Well, he hadn’t taken into account the obstinate nature of a certain strawhatted boy.

“Why?” that question and the sight of a finger up the younger boy’s nose were all that greeted his declaration to break free from whatever scheme that Vice Admiral was after.

Sabo floundered. From the smaller boy’s perspective, things probably weren’t looking all that bad, really.

However, that was what any kidnapper worth their salt would make their victims think. If they didn’t feel the need to break out and leave the invisible shackles behind, then the kidnapping could be treated as a job well done, no problem, right? It had been a similar thing with Sabo's parents, hadn’t it? Although for them, his blood relation in addition to his status as a child had been the proverbial shackles. Up until he’d run away.

The blond wondered if he should tell Luffy why he was on the ship in the first place. Making a decision, he started whispering, not knowing and suspicious of who could be listening in at any point in time on that marine ship. As soon as he did that, unconsciously leaning forward with a serious expression on his face, the younger boy followed suit, picking up on the seriousness of the matter at hand and lowering both hands to rest by his sides.

“What I’m gonna tell you now has to stay between the two of us, understand? It can’t leave your lips, not under any circumstances!”

The strawhatted boy’s face scrunched together. “What’s a circum-cerkim-cercum-dance?”

... he couldn’t hope to tell Luffy about any plans of his if there was already such a blatant language barrier between the two. No. He couldn’t think like that – it was the stress speaking, most probably. That was a younger boy he was dealing with, Sabo reminded himself, and not a noble one at that. Was it a wonder that he’d not get all of what Sabo was saying?

“You can’t tell anyone about it, _ever_.” he implored the boy, instead. Luffy nodded earnestly.

“Look, I don’t know how or where they picked you up, but I’ve gotten on this ship because I’m on an important mission.” The strawhatted boy’s eyes widened in surprise. Intrigued, he forwent personal boundaries entirely as he leaned in uncomfortably close.

* * *

Ace wasn’t sure where he was. He was laying on a bed, for one. That was unusual. Even more unusual was that he wasn’t covered in those ratty blankets of his that he usually slept under in the bandits' house. No, the blanket he was covered with was soft and white and fluffy. Fluttering, his eyes blinked a few times before settling on the sight in front of him.

A strange sort of calm descended on him. At the same time as he felt utterly lost and unsure of what was going on, he thought this place seemed familiar. But that couldn’t be, right? Gingerly, he sat up in the bed, the smell of strange, unknown herbs assaulting him. He hadn’t ever left Dawn Island, how could a room on a ship ( _the infirmary, that was the infirmary_ a voice whispered reassuringly in his head) seem familiar to him? Heck, how did he even know he was on a ship?

His hands gripped the bed's sides tightly, bunching some of the fabric underneath them. At least he was alone, for now. There were no windows in that... infirmary... and he could only feel the slightest tremor underneath his bare feet when they touched the floor.

So. He’d been kidnapped? Looking down at himself revealed that he was still wearing his clothes. Good. That was good. No kidnapper would leave their victim their clothes and – searchingly, he put his right hand inside his trousers' pocket, the left still tightly holding onto the bed – their knickknacks, which he retrieved from it shortly before stuffing them back in.

Next, his eyes roamed over the room to land on a door on the right. The nurses' office.

Oh, that knowing of things he _knew_ he had no business knowing about was going to get on his nerves soon, wasn’t it?

Why had he been kidnapped in the first place? Had he been found out? His heritage discovered? His shoulders bunched with tension, his arms tight by his sides as he pushed himself off the bed. He needed to get out. Spotting his slippers, the simple black ones he’d worn in the jungle back on Dawn halfway underneath the bed to his right, he quietly slipped them on, all the while glancing towards both doors ( _the entrance, that other one led out to hallways and the galley and the deck and the_ sea) in alternation, nervous that someone might come in and discover he wasn’t lying where they’d put him any more, he hesitated, unsure of where to go, of what to do next.

Something coiled in his stomach as he thought back to Dawn.

Ace needed to check on Sabo ( _Sabo?_ ) and Luffy ( _Luffy?_ ), and soon. The faster he checked in with the blond, the sooner he could reassure him that he was still alive and kicking, albeit an unknown distance away from their home ( _on the Grand Line, moreover, he was on the Grand Line_ ). But how to go about it...?

Finding a Den Den Mushi to use would be the most practical choice, he thought. He knew Makino's number by heart, and would go from there. Ace just hoped that Sabo was keeping a cool head, though, to be fair, the blond was known to be the less impulsive of the two of them. Eh, Ace was certain he’d be able to handle whatever came about.

And then he’d need to check on Luffy, as well.

Never mind that half of him thought Sabo had died ( _died? Sabo?!?_ ) and that the other half was wondering who the hell Luffy was.

* * *

“I’m here to find my” ~~best friend~~ “partner. He’s” ~~disappeared~~ “been kidnapped. This ship was my only lead to where he might’ve been taken, so I jumped on board. You can’t tell anyone about this, alright?” Luffy’s eyes only widened in lieu of an answer before they went back to their usual size. The younger had started clutching his hat with both hands midway through the ~~woefully inadequate~~ explanation and his grip tightened briefly at the end of it.

Something indecipherable went through the younger one’s eyes, then they settled in determination.

“I’m gonna help you find him.” He stated, as though it was already a decided thing that they _would_ indeed find Ace at the end of their search, as though there was a clear map leading them to him and all they’d have to do is follow the way as it lit up in front of them. All that Sabo could do faced with such a declaration was blink bemusedly.

Opening his mouth ~~to refute the claim that Ace could be found that easily, that it was child’s play and all they’d have to do was stretch out their open hands and they’d be given a lead on the whereabouts of the black-haired boy~~ , he froze when the loudspeakers in the upper left corner of the room came to life.

“Land ahoy! All men to their positions! Luffy, _stay inside_ , you hear me?” the booming voice made Sabo freeze up in response to memories of a recent fight that bubbled up at hearing it. His heart racing it was all he could do to stay silent so as not to alarm the other boy too much. Who looked about as frozen in position as he was, to be honest. Shoulders hunched, the black-haired boy's knuckles clutching the straw hat tightly had paled considerably with the strain in the dark lighting of the room.

Whoever this Luffy was, he’d apparently earned the marine’s ire, what with the way his name had been said and the order accompanying it. Sabo resolved to stay far away from anyone with such a name should he hear it spoken in his vicinity, just to be on the safe side.

Once they were certain that that was all that was coming and that there were no more threats to locate, Sabo consciously relaxed his shoulders, seeing the other boy imitate him.

“Wheeeeeell.” He huffed out a breath. “That was something.”

And really, what with everything that had happened so far? Sabo _should_ have been prepared for the answer to his next question and absolutely should have seen this coming.

“What’s your name, anyways?”

* * *

Sneaking about the infirmary, another thing vied for his attention: namely that he’d need to find somewhere to hide, and quickly – people would be coming into the room soon and find the bed unoccupied. The few minutes he’d spent reorienting himself could have already cost him more than he knew.

Precious seconds were wasted by determining which way to go ( _no, there was always at least one nurse stationed in the infirmary, no way was there no one in the nurse’s office right now-_ ) and then making sure it was safe to head outside once he’d pushed the doorknob down with both hands ( _why was it up that high? Wait, no, that was normal, he was used to this_ ) to open the door more quietly.

His eyebrows had scrunched together again in confused befuddlement at his own bemusement, but he shook his head and shrugged the thoughts off quickly. Ace needed to focus. There was no time right now for wondering about mystery heights. (Mystery _heights? What the hell..._ )

Forcefully, he relegated all thoughts that did not deal with his immediate situation to the back of his mind. Later. He’d deal with them later. As soon as he was safe.

Peeking out into the hallway, he saw that the coast was clear, for now. On silent feet, he dared venture outside, closing the door carefully in his wake. It wouldn’t do to alert anyone needlessly.

The boy tiptoed around corners and through quite a few empty hallways before he found a storage room suitable for hiding purposes. He blamed the niggling, weirdly comforting voice at the back of his head for knowing exactly where to head next for the hallways with the least people in them. Wouldn’t do to rely on it though, not until he’d ascertained it was safe to do so and _why_.

* * *

The meeting was coming to a close, when a knock on the door interrupted the session. Whitebeard bid them to enter as several heads turned in the direction of the newcomer. Every so often, something like that would happen – immediate concerns would need to be brought up to the captain or one of the commanders while they were in an otherwise closed off discussion in the meeting room. Usually, a second-in-command brought them to their attention by knocking on the door and telling them, as happened then. At sea, especially on the Grand Line it was vital to keep the communication open, so as to be able to fend off enemies (sometimes prematurely) and avoid obstacles in time.

The pirate that entered was from the communication centre, holding a Den Den in his hands and a bit out of breath, probably from having run all the way to the meeting room.

“What is it, son?” Newgate's gravelly voice could be clearly heard from the end of the table. The pirate’s answer was short and to the point.

“A call, Oyaji, from Captain Whitey Bay. We felt it important you listen to her proposal.” Important enough to interrupt a meeting with all the commanders present, it seemed. Marco raised an eyebrow at his captain, the silent _Do we need to clear the room?_ as understandable as though he’d said it out loud. A nigh imperceptible shake of Whitebeard's head negated the notion.

“Put her through.” Their captain commanded. The snail took on the familiar, facially controlled expression of their sister.

“Oyaji,” she began, “you’re currently on your way to Drum, correct? Did you just cast off from Fishman Island?” Whitebeard gave an affirmative in response.

“Good. We’re docked at Alabasta at the moment, so we can meet you when you’re about halfway there. Tell Marco to let Jeros in on the details.” Marco nodded his head in acquiescence to her request to tell the doctor’s navigator about their location and coordinate a meeting point. He wasn’t the only one who was looking forward to seeing her again. It had been quite a while since the last time they’d met up.

“Why this, all of a sudden?” Newgate asked, although it sounded like he was already aware of the answer.

“I realize you’re heading towards your regular checkup, but I did say that I wanted to be there next time you did that, don’t you remember?” More like he tried to forget, judging from the face. His face loudly projected an air of misery, already lamenting the fact that from then on that she knew about his medical tissues – and Newgate was glad of a second opinion, as was Marco about a second pair of medically educated eyes when it came to their chosen adopted father figure –, she’d have yet more than his drinking habit to hold over his head. She’d have _valid reasons_ backing up her nagging. Whitebeard shuddered slightly.

The allied captain was a doctor in her own right and her words held weight. If she wanted to be there when the witch doctor checked Pop’s health, who was Marco to deny her?

Nobody mentioned the boy or the Devil Fruit mystery. For now it wouldn’t do to alarm people unnecessarily, and plus, she’d learn about them soon enough. Whitey Bay and Whitebeard exchanged a few more words before they cut the connection.

Marco was just about to open his mouth and say something, when another one of their siblings slipped in through the door, out of breath and alarmingly nervous, in the face of every commander's eyes on them. That could only mean he was going to tell them some bad news. Mentally bracing himself to hear whatever the pirate had to say, Marco told him, “What’s wrong?”, a clear command to inform him of any and all mishaps while they’d been busy.

“The boy! Oyaji, I’m sorry, but the boy is gone!” _What?_

Heaving a deep breath, the man went on, a tad more collected than he was at the start of his exclamation, “He was left alone in the infirmary for five minutes, a nurse was getting something from the office, and when she came back into the infirmary, he was gone!”

“You mean, you lost him?” Thatch summarized helpfully for all present in the room who hadn’t yet put two and two together.

“You lost him? What do you mean you lost him? How can you lose a kid on this ship?” Haruta asked, understandably incredulous.

Marco closed his eyes in resignation for the task ahead. Feeling someone stare at him, he opened them only to meet his captain's assessing face. He nodded, once. Yes, he’d make sure to find the boy.

With newfound energy, he stood up from his seat, to direct his siblings on the search for one elusive little boy.

* * *

Traipsing through the ship unnoticed as far as he could tell, and with Luffy's right hand in his left so as not to lose the boy again, proved awfully easy once the ship had halted. The steady pat-pat accompanying any of the other boy’s steps had faded into the background for him by that point, creating a repetitive and rather calming soundtrack for their exploration of the marine ship.

A new noise briefly drew his attention towards the left, but he quickly tugged them both on, his eyes straight ahead and making haste to reach a different room they could hopefully use as temporary sleeping quarters until they found a way off the ship (underneath in the hallways there was almost no one to be found, but up on deck? Sabo could barely duck back around the corner of the door they’d opened to glance outside and close it again in time so as not to be found out).

Apparently, the marines had laid anchor close to the island that the maniac had mentioned earlier in that broadcast of his and he’d left a skeleton crew behind to mind the ship ( _and Luffy_ ) in the meantime. They did all of said minding outside and stationed somewhere on the upper parts of the ship. Sabo wasn’t impressed.

Who knew what that deranged Vice Admiral had in store for the two boys? They couldn’t let their guard down. Especially since he had called out Luffy’s name in particular. He felt an incessant tugging at his arm and hushed the other absent-mindedly, saying “Come on, Luffy, not far anymore.” keeping his eyes straight ahead and his focus on reaching a safe room for the two of them to rest in.

( _Had that old geezer an inkling of what it means to take care of the younger boy, most of all considering his stomach's demands?_ )

( _Never mind that, Sabo did_ not _endorse letting him come anywhere near the strawhatted bottomless pit anytime soon_ )

( _Luffy was under_ his _protection now. Take that, old man! Better watch out!_ )

( _ ~~He couldn’t help Ace, let him at least do right by Luffy~~_ )

Sneaking quietly into another, at first glance, unused room, he turned around to face the other boy, only to recoil in horror at the sight that greeted him.


	3. Get ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabo learns something new about Luffy, Garp tries to visit an old friend and Ace is confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have fun reading!

_T NOW! What do we want? MORE TIME TRAVEL JOKES! When do we want them? RIGH_

_~@johnfreiler on Twitter_

* * *

_An eighteen-year-old squeezed through a narrow, albeit empty, passage in-between the commanders' and the sailors' rooms. Used for maintenance as they were, he didn’t linger long. He needed to figure out a hiding place. The room that the Whitebeards had assigned him being nothing more than a storage room, he was left vulnerable for an attack should they decide to throw him off board on a whim. Whitebeard himself wanted him on his crew but who knew if he didn’t change his mind. Ace was planning on making himself scarce for that should it happen._

_Thus, his current venture through the ship. Along with others, it had given him a rather good idea of what passages were free of people at what times. He’d unearthed – as far as he could discern – quite a few that hadn’t been used in ages, if all the dust wasn’t hint enough._

_Good, he was close to a hiding spot that he’d discovered earlier that week. Looking left and right he made sure no one was close, before he climbed from the passage up into one of the ventilation shafts that ran through the ship. He only had to crawl around a few corners in that one and then, voilà, there was a hidden cache right above the dining hall. Several of the ventilation shafts outlets convened there and created a bit of a convenient hidey hole for a kidnapped stowaway._

_Having made his way along the first half of the Grand Line within under a year and entered the second half shortly thereafter, he’d have been blind not to have stumbled over Haki in his endeavours. Hiding directly above the dining hall made certain that even those skilled with Observation Haki would have to go through all the people’s signature auras with a fine comb to filter and find his. He was safe here._

A safe place. That was exactly what he needed right now. A younger body with freckles and black hair, taking longer and becoming that much more exhausted in such a short time frame that it was ridiculous, raced through the hallways on the Moby Dick. Always peering around the next corner to see if there were people present, all the boy could think of was the memory from long ago where he’d run through a familiar set of hallways towards safety, not faltering nor halting in his movements for a second longer than it took to get to his destination undiscovered.

When he came upon an intersection of three hallways and took the right one, he only just barely managed to draw back to the dubious safety of the hallway he’d come from, when he noticed someone standing in the one he’d been headed towards. Pressing himself against the wall, he tensed. Had they seen him? Ace had tried to be as silent on his feet as possible, he didn’t want to attract attention, after all. A few moments passed and he picked up scraps of conversation between the two gestalts in white that he’d made out before he’d backtracked as quickly as possible. ( _nurses, those had been two female nurses’ uniforms he’d seen. Their backsides, moreover_ )

“… yes. You bring about what you think about. After all, the more you think about some things, the more of those you bring it into your life. Makes sense, doesn’t it?” That was a man’s voice. For but a second, Ace’s stomach churned, but then it calmed. It sounded like they were gossiping. Ace let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in, tension draining out of his body with it. They hadn’t noticed him.

“And you believe that?”

“Well, I believe in fate, at least, m’ladies.” The boy didn’t know what made him stay right where he was – the longer he didn’t move, the higher the possibility that he’d be found, after all – but something in the tone of that voice kept his feet planted to the floor. The longer the speaker spoke, the more garbled their utterances sounded to his ears. He _knew_ that voice. That voice brought pain and agony and _darkness_ -

For a moment, Ace couldn’t breathe, his chest constricting painfully. The next, he was back in his body, back against the wall of wood behind him in that hallway on the ship, his vision swimming in front of him, his ears telling him that the conversation had moved on in the meantime, the mystery speaker conspicuously absent by now.

A huff sounded, then “As with all things, there might be at least a bit of truth in it. Hey, I could try it with things I want to attract into my life, like cakes, for example. Or my favourite cookies. Let’s see if the cooks have them on hand at our next meal.” Chuckling, the voices retreated, fading in the distance.

That was the moment where he shook his head, dispelling the notion of staying there any longer and moving away from his position.

“You bring about what you think about, huh?” he muttered to himself disbelievingly. Another shake of his head put the matter to the back of his mind, at least temporarily. Until he’d found a better way to that safe haven up above the galley. There was an entrance to the ventilation shafts a few hallways down, if he ran straight ahead instead of turning left to where he’d come from. Resolved, he headed there. A safe place took priority, right now.

* * *

A greying man set foot on the island. What greeted him was silence, telling him all at once that he wasn’t welcome there and that fear reigned supreme over the island’s inhabitants. The doors were closed, not a soul was on the street. Drops of sweat and unrest lingered in the air.

He narrowed his eyes. Something was wrong here, and very much so. A sweep with his haki told him that the people were hiding, fearfully, within their houses, curtains closed, with some anxiously lifting a corner to risk glance outside, hands shaking and immediately replacing the curtain edge when they spy him.

Garp was a marine, for god’s sake. His white uniform wasn’t supposed to spark fear in people’s hearts, not if he didn’t intend for it to. Grimly, he ventured further into the village, anticipating the worst from the get-go.

Behind him, the majority of his crew tagged along, originally having entered the island for purposes of food-replenishment and the procuration of other such necessities. Seemed like it may be a bit too optimistic for them to assume they’d be able to buy those things here.

Thump-thump, his steps almost echoed in the vacant village centre. Not a soul could be seen on the street, apart from them. He frowned in consternation. Garp hadn’t come here to resolve a situation, as the case had turned out to be, he’d only wanted to make this island a pitstop on their journey, with the extra of visiting an old nakama of his who’d settled there more than half a decade ago.

It had been far too long since he’d seen her last, but from what he knew about the ex-marine, he was sure that she wouldn’t have let this situation stand as it was and done something, most probably something reckless, in the face of it.

Loudly, he sighed, then breathed in deeply, before expelling the air from his nostrils like he was readying himself for a fight.

( _Who knew what would happen if he didn’t prepare himself for what was to come?_ )

( _It looked more and more like a_ Situation _, frankly, and not a good one in his eyes_ )

( _ ~~Where was Bellmère? Was she hurt? Had she~~_ ~~died _while he hadn’t been looking?_~~ )

While he’d readily admit that most of what Sengoku called him had some grain of truth – and oh, the favourite reply he’d ever gotten was still the one from the one single time where he’d caught the already-riled-up Fleet Admiral unawares ( _Capricious asshole, when will you learn to use the door like a normal person?!?_ ) –, he was easy to get in touch with, usually. Well, when he wasn’t trying to keep the various detours to his routes a secret from Sengoku, that was. Or went on vacation spontaneously. Eh, the old goat had learned to deal with it.

That – and other things – might have hindered Bell-mère from reaching out to him if she’d been in a pinch. If she’d even thought to contact him in the first place, that was.

( _Her favourite person to ask for help had always been Tsuru and not him_ )

( _She’d never been one to ask for help in the first place_ )

( _Self-sufficient brat, she’d always relied on herself more than anyone else_ )

No matter how much his memories beckon him, he couldn’t think back to happier times now ( _“Back in East Blue again, old geezer?”_ ), not when the streets were deserted and not when the air bore down heavy on their shoulders, oppressive with fear and apprehension and whatnot else.

Thump thump, his feet knew the way, his men following at his heels.

Soon, they reached the outskirts of the town.

Far sooner than he’d anticipated, they were climbing the little hill, up and up, to the little house on it. The leaves of her treasured mikan trees swung in the fresh breeze, the sun still shining brightly down on them.

He was the only one who set foot on the doorstep that led to her house, to what he’d gotten to know as her home all those years ago when he’d last visited her. Steeling himself for whatever might lay inside for him to find ( _or not find, as the case might be_ ), he knocked.

* * *

His stomach did a terrible flip at the scene that was in front of him. He’d turned around towards Luffy and what he saw was… indescribable, really. His left hand was still clutching tightly to Luffy’s right, but the arm… what should have been a short distance between the hand and Luffy’s torso was an elongated something that almost made Sabo want to hurl.

It had the colour of Luffy’s arm. It tugged incessantly at his hand and he had no idea what would happen should he let go of it. The younger boy, however, was nowhere to be seen, presumably around the corner of the door to the room where he’d just entered. That was where that horrifying, long… _thing_ … led, at least.

( _Could one call it an arm when Sabo wasn’t even sure if there were_ bones _inside of it?_ )

No. Nonono _nonooo_. This wasn’t happening, right?

The tugging increased briefly and Sabo felt what could only be called a short moment of respite, before the… _arm_ … was apparently shortening in what had to be record time, bringing a flying child’s body with it. Luffy’s “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah” as he fell into the room was ignorable, considering the way he entered it. The blond was just glad that he’d gone around the corner before turning towards the younger boy – that was the only reason why the trajectory of Luffy’s body was so off that it landed to Sabo’s left and didn’t take the shell-shocked boy down with it.

Way too late, he let go of the hand he was still holding onto, making it comically snap back to its owner’s arm, who was groaning and lying prone on the ground, face first. So much for not drawing attention.

It took him embarrassingly long to get over his shock. Standing there with his mouth agape and his eyes open wide, the only thing that went through his head was, _What the hell?_

Meanwhile, Luffy grumbled and sat up, putting a hand on his hat to make sure it was still where it was supposed to be. The younger of the two grumbled and huffed, “That was mean! I told you to let go of my arm!”

Sabo bristled, drawing himself up at a piece of familiar banter ( _ ~~the likes of which he’d last had with another dark-haired boy~~_ ) that slot neatly into place in his mind, and reacted practically on autopilot as he countered, “No you didn’t!”

“Did so! Back at the last corner I told you!” But Luffy’s backtalk didn’t challenge him ( _ ~~not the way that Ace's did anytime they fought or mock-fought~~_ ). His voice was whiny and terribly young, as if Sabo had wronged him greatly in some unfathomable way. The cadence and melody of it sounded so wrong in combination with what he remembered past conversations to have gone like, that it forcefully jolted the blond back into the present from where he’d been drawn into past conversational habits. His mouth slightly open, Sabo fell silent.

Eyes far away, he wondered if he’d ever find Ace again. If they’d ever exchange quips and tips and whatnot the way they’d done before. Who was he to think he _could_?

( _ ~~Oh hell, he missed the congenial familiarity they’d built~~_ )

“I only wanted to have a look at that cat...” the pouty look the strawhatted boy gave him registered dimly to his senses.

Dimly, Sabo realised that his voice answered, “You- That-, what was that?”

“Huh?” Luffy didn’t immediately follow.

“That- arm thing, what was that?” Sabo was glad to notice that his own voice didn’t sound that far away to his ears any more, but was getting clearer the longer he forced himself to verbally track and react to what they were talking about. His stomach was settling down, as well, the more he understood the surrealness of the situation.

“Oh, I’m made of rubber! I’m a rubberboy!” As a demonstration ( _ ~~as though Sabo needed one~~_ ), Luffy tugged at the left corner of his mouth, stretching it out past where it should have gone and making it snap back into place nigh a second later. “I ate a Devil Fruit.” he added when Sabo didn’t show any reaction other than a blank look.

Devil Fruit.

( _ ~~A legend, they weren’t real~~_ )

Sabo had thought those were a myth.

The blond boy sat down heavily on the metal floor of the room within that Marine vessel they still hadn’t found a way out of yet. Breathing deeply in and out, the blond mentally recapitulated what had happened in the past few hours.

He’d boarded a Vice Admiral’s ship in the hopes of finding his partner ( _ ~~best friend~~_ ) and gotten discovered by a younger boy ( _ ~~who looked like a younger version of Ace and behaved just as brazenly at times~~_ ) instead – and that younger boy’s name was Luffy and he was ( _regularly?_ ) called out by name by aforementioned Vice Admiral in a loudspeaker announcement; oh, and by the way, he also was a Devil Fruit user. Briefly, he glanced over at the other who’d crouched down in front of him, his eyes betraying the worried glimmer and countenance the black-haired boy projected unconsciously before he amended the statement by adding: And a glutton, to boot.

Sabo had rarely felt more out of his depth and wasn’t certain what was a sensible course of action in the face of such an utterly ridiculous situation.

Sure of his assessment of the proceedings that led to his stay in this room and company, Sabo nodded, determined to make the best of it, before addressing Luffy, all the while thinking back to something he’d heard once in relation to the Fruits, “So you’re a Devil Fuit user? Doesn’t that mean that you can’t swim?” The pout he got for his utterance was answer enough.

Great, another thing to pay attention to. Luffy wasn’t just younger than him ( _and smaller and thus more vulnerable, and easy to be drawn away from him by the currents should they have to jump ship literally by jumping into the sea_ ), no, on top of that he couldn’t be expected to swim because of that accursed Devil Fruit. To think that he’d thought the sandals were the most annoying thing about the boy when he’d first met him…

Calming down from whatever had gotten a hold over him earlier, Sabo analysed the situation critically. The best thing they could hope for was that there was a random, conveniently unattended lifeboat they could pilfer, wasn’t it? They’d have to act quickly, as well – Sabo wasn’t sure how much more difficult it’d be to steal one while the ship was in motion, but he imagined it’d be easier by far to do so while it was anchored somewhere. Especially for two boys who hadn’t ever been to sea before…

Firmly clamping down on where those thoughts led ( _he’d already had way too much panicking for the day, he was pretty fed up with it, he’d do more tomorrow, yeah he was free between three and four pm, he’d flip out about that particular detail then_ ), the blond grit his teeth.

* * *

“You bring about what you think about.” he muttered to himself, voice hollow and numb.

Shaking his head to rid himself of that thought, Ace headed deeper into the ventilation shaft, crouching on all fours and alert for any noise that wasn’t supposed to be there. It wasn’t... that wasn’t important right now, was it?

Sabo's young face appeared in his mind’s eye, silent and still. Just looking at Ace, his blue eyes' gaze oppressive and his lips pursed together.

The black-haired boy’s face was pale as he halted in his movements, his stare a million miles away, chest laboriously heaving in breaths in a controlled, slow rhythm.

Another scene flung itself across his mind’s eye: Luffy falling from the sky in a desperate bid to save him, wide-eyed and pale and altogether looking worse for the wear. In the next moment, he’s on the ground, reaching for Ace's vivre card that was burning and burning and utterly unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but that was all that Luffy was focused on right then and there. A blink later and a fist shot straight through Ace – and, worst of all, he couldn’t stop it from getting to his little brother, stop it from reaching and hurting _Luffy_.

Was that... had that been... _his_ fault all along? But… it hadn’t happened, right?

Was that… was he seeing the future?

His eyes closed, tears encroaching on his vision. His breathing grew rapid, gasps spilling from his lips that he took care not to let grow louder so as not to be heard or noticed. He sat back on his legs, his head barely grazing the roof of the shaft. The tiny body shook in an attempt at expelling the thoughts that had taken hold of him in his involuntary venture down memory lane. Were those even memories? Were they visions? What was the real deal, here?

Scrunching his eyes closer together, the boy tried to convince himself that his little brother, the only brother he still had left in the world ( _wait, the_ only brother _?!?_ ), had come to that warzone of his own free will and that it had not been his fault Luffy might not have survived in the end.

It wouldn’t happen. Shaking his head, Ace felt the cool air of the shaft cling to his sticky skin. Ah, that was sweat, wasn’t it?

Taking a deep breath, he counted to four before letting it out again.

And Sabo, Sabo wasn’t- he couldn’t be- he couldn’t have died on him, dammit!

The other boy had still been alive, last he’d checked!

A traitorous _“But that was before you woke up on a ship with no idea of what had happened and lots of images and things stuffed in your head that you couldn’t make head nor tails of!”_ entered his mind before he could stop it.

Okay.

Mind made up, the boy blinked, before changing direction and heading left instead of the right that’d bring him to the area above the galley he’d used as a hiding spot in that weird dream sequence of his earlier.

Time to figure out where they kept the Den Den Mushis, and then he’d find out if the weird accumulation of information and images and things that had been running through his head might actually prove useful by providing him with Makino’s number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too. Many. Bloody. Characters. to keep track of in One Piece. XD  
> I didn't know where best to cut this chapter, so there you are. Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Also: this chapter took longer than expected to get out. I'm having a bit of trouble writing these days, audio stuffs seem to come easier to me atm - just a heads up that the next chapter might take a while yet, sorry!

**Author's Note:**

> Kashira=Boss (I hope I got that right)


End file.
